we’re sitting
on opposite sides
of the room
but your back is to me
and i stare
at the back of your head
wishing you might
turn around
and smile
walk over
sit with me
but you never do
because you’re sitting
with your friends
which i am not
not anymore
i don’t even know
if i ever was
i hope i was
but now i sit
alone at a table
sipping from an aluminum can
of coca cola
Sarah Owen is fourteen years old and resides in the town of Killingly, Connecticut. She loves to escape from the world through books and sometimes her own stories, because high school is often overwhelming and too much to deal with. Most of her poems are created from her perspective of experiences and thoughts. She can be found daydreaming in the middle of her classes or staring at the ceiling while listening to music. She cherishes her 8th grade English teacher for supporting her and encouraging her to get her work published. Inspiration for this poem: It was in the lunchroom, and I was sitting alone at a table, and I just so happened to see someone who was my friend only about a few months prior. Coincidentally, when we were friends, I was at a fairly low point in my life. We eventually grew distant, and I still see her in the hallways and she’s even in one of my classes, but we don’t talk or hang out anymore. But of course, like most friendships, I think I learned a lesson.
"A can of Coca-Cola" by Matthew Paul Argall is licensed under CC BY 2.0. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/?ref=openverse.
